| i just dont understand why i feel this way, all i ever wanted was for her to be happy, and yes i fell short. but she doesnt have to make me feel worse than i already do. i mean i thought we were friends. best friends. but i guess those were only words. she has moved on and doesnt feel like she can talk to me anymore. but it seems that she only talks to me when she needs something. yet she gets mad at me for doing somthing of the sort. if i only talk to her when its convenient for me its a shit storm, but when it is for her its totally fine. i just dont get her. she wont respond to a god damn thing i say, and its about time that i am going to give up honestly. i have been hurt so much over the past year, and im tired of it. it kills me to give her up but i feel like if i am ever going to be happy thats what i need to do. because from my pov she has already given up on me. love is a horrible thing that makes you a horrible person. she just makes me so mad! god damnit! I WANT TO HELP YOU. I WANT TO BE YOUR FRIEND! what more do you want from me?! you just keep me out all the time till you need something...and its just tiring. i wont try to contact you anymore.
|
| |
| havent updated in a while....
but yeah maybe ill write some shit soon
|
| |
| As I lay next to her discovering new constellations and solar systems in the galaxy on her back; I cannot help but smile and cherish the moment. Take it in, life is just a line and if you can't stop to look at a point it'll fly by. Her skin is soft and sweet like a fruit that grants knowledge beyond that of human comprehension. With every bite I fell into the depths of her intelligence only to find myself wrapped in my sheets wondering where the night went. The time spent in her presence seemed like an eternity but when I try to retroactivate the night, it seems like one ecstasy induced blur that leaves me dazed and smiling.
The sun rose before my eyes could shut and before I knew it I was back on my feet and feeling against the grain. This won't last for long...I hope. The fickle brain I house in my skull can accept this stranger, whose name (for lack of a more appropriate phrase) shall be Content, into it's home and not be a total shmuck. I kind of like Content. I must rid myself of menticidal thoughts and focus more on the rebuild...it's almost the time for enemies to become friends, and a life to begin anew. |
| |
| Like any good pastery, there has to be concistency(sp?). Sure I am flaky but is that good all the time? Answer: no. I would love to be warm, golden brown, and filling, but it seems I am a pale wad of dough with no extraordinary feature to distiguish me from the pale wad of dough down the street. I really cannot help but wonder why I am this way, and why I was led to this juncture. Neither party needed a wad of dough but one of them has to use it. I think the other party preferes pre-made baked goods and simply doesn't care enough to work out the bubbles. Granted that party did try for several years to work out the kinks...which they did a wonderful job at...but perhaps that party woke up one morning and looked at this dough and said, "I give up, there's nothing more I can do and it seems as though this is the wrong dough for my recipe anyway. Clumsy me." *tosses dough and gets outta Dodge*
The party that is left with the dough can only look at the shiny tray and see a pale distorted wad of hairy gross dough. This party thinks, "what recipe would call for this?!" The dough then sits for a while, unused, but still a sponge for the parties negative thoughts. The party rages on and tries to forget about the dough, but this becomes difficult for the party once it realizes that it is bound to the dough. So the party has to make a decision about what recipe this dough will go into. "the dough seems like it has a lot of the right requirements to make something extraordinary, it just needs a little more work. So on the party went kneeding out the imperfections. "This is a painstaking process," thought the party, "but it has to be worth it in the end!"
"If we are stuck with this dough we better make it as good as possible! This seems like our only shot!"
|
| |
| I don't know why it is that I feel the way I do. I love Jessica so much and there is so much I want to say, but whenever I get the courage to say something to her she distances her self and gives a vague response. I know she still cares for me but why does she pull away so much? I know we couldmake this work, but I guess she just doesn't want to. But why?! I just can't grasp that. Why not give us another chance, I want to impress her, I want to have her back so badly that I would really do so much out of my comfort level to prove my self. I know what it's like to lose her. It's just too late now. That was the shove I needed but the shove she needed to open her eyes as well I suppose. I would love to remain her friend but my heart will always be broken unless I can hold her every night and make her feel better. I know they say I'm still getting over her and that it's normal to want her back, but I don't want to get over her, she was the sun in my life. She was the reason I awoke every morning and the goal I reached for every night. Without such an object life has become so dull. I have nothing to strive for, nothing to see waiting for me at the finish. No one to hold and tell I love you too. No eyes to brighten my day or smile to calm me. I am adrift a shoreless ocean of self doubt and loathing. Up shit tsunami without a paddle. And not a god damned thing on the horizon.
I must fool myself into believing the mirage I see and using that as my hope. I still should use her as my motivation to find her. My compass to my lead me back to my light house. My friend on which to lean on. My Jessica in which to confide within. |
| |
